I Don’t Hang Loose When it Comes to Tight Pants

13 Thursday Dec 2012

Posted by in Confessional

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , ,

JBrands

Good Morning.

BY LOIS DESOCIO

“I could never wear those.” I heard this sentence twice recently while shopping. One time it was while I was picking out these big, bedazzled pink earrings. The other was when I was checking out three pairs of my favorite J Brand black skinny jeans. The women who said this to me, who appeared to be over 40, knew I was shopping for myself, because I was wearing big, bedazzled purple earrings, and black skinny jeans. I did have a moment about the jeans, and thought: maybe I shouldn’t wear these either – I’m over 50. There is that uptight, conventional wisdom that says older women shouldn’t wear tight anything. Or maybe if you do, you’re trying to look younger. Do this! Don’t do that!

But it was just a moment. Not only will I continue to wear them, I will be wearing them when I’m over 70 – just like Jane Fonda.

Black skinny jeans is pretty much all I wear these days. In fact I wear them every day. Unless I’m on the beach, in the shower, or in bed – I’m in my black skinny jeans.

To me, tight means a good fit. That small percentage of spandex helps them hug, and hold their shape. They’re comfortable. They’re fashionable. They’re me! They make me happy. And they let me work from the bottom up. Picking out the shirt, the earrings, is where I want to put my daily-dressing energies. (I love shoes, too, but they’re usually black – to match my jeans.)

Think flower stem, tree trunk, or maybe ice cream cone – all the good stuff is on top. My jeans make me a pedestal that sprouts color; essence. Add black heels, my legs look twice as long. (Those big earrings? They give my face sparkle and pop!)

You’ll find me in my black skinny jeans during the day.
Jeans dayAnd at night.
Jeans night

I have about a dozen pair, and they are all exactly the same. Which gives me my personal strength in numbers. That phrase used to mean: never wear the same thing twice in one week. Now it says: buy a dozen of exactly the same thing, and wear it every day.

Bottoms up!

Want to Make a Gun? It’s a Piece of Cake

12 Wednesday Dec 2012

Posted by in Opinion

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

Drawing by Julie Seyler.

BY JULIE SEYLER

On October 7, 2012, The New York Times ran an article discussing how 3-D printer technology is allowing us to make guns at home.  This flipped me out, because really, regardless of where one stands on the Second Amendment (the right of the people to keep and bear arms), and gun ownership laws, it does seem somewhat crazy that we are moving into an era where guns, like cakes, can be whipped up at home with a little push of the button. Talk about the Wild Wild West!

So I brought the article up with a couple of my colleagues at work – neither of whom were particularly bothered.  One guy said, “If a person is intent on killing, it is very difficult to stop them.  They will find a means to do so with whatever technology is available at the time.” And another guy said that you still need to understand how to assemble the gun, so we need not worry about our ten year olds readily printing a gun for a fun game of cops and robbers.

Well, great!

But what does it say about where we are going as a society?  The simple fact that homemade guns are coming to your local neighborhood – it just blew my mind.  I wrote the above, did a fast drawing that reflected how I saw the situation, and figured one day we’d post my thoughts on the blog.  But last Friday I was talking to a different colleague, and he said, “Do you know what one of the most watched YouTube videos is?” I wouldn’t know since I forget YouTube exists. He said there is a video online that directs you how to make a paper gun – a usable, workable device to kill someone, and it is one of the most popular, watchable, and shareable videos within the small domain of YouTube entertainment.

He shook his head in utter disgust and resignation, and then asked me if I had heard of the University of Colorado dormitory that is specially designated for college students. You know – 18-21 year olds. That own guns. (Hate to be there on a night of too much drinking.)

Wherever you look, the liberalization of gun laws, coupled with the constant progression of technology, is not making us safer. It is just making our society scarier. I grew up knowing a gun was a company-manufactured device sold through regulated retail outlets. There were laws that governed accessibility. I may not have been any “safer” than I am today, but it sure felt that way.

So how does this relate to being on the right side of 50?  Only that I have more years behind me to feel sad about the years ahead.

I Want What She Has: Big Muscles

11 Tuesday Dec 2012

Posted by in Confessional, Men

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Muscle Chick by Julie Seyler

Muscle Chick, by Julie Seyler

By FRANK TERRANELLA

When I was 12, I arm-wrestled a girl and lost. I had not entered puberty yet, and the girl had. As I remember, it wasn’t even close.  The girl, who was the same age as me, had initiated the match.  She asked me to show her my bicep muscle. Perhaps she was flirting, but I was oblivious. When I flexed my arm, practically nothing popped up. The girl smiled, suppressing a giggle. She also did not have a defined bicep, but she had a thick arm, and was simply much stronger than me at that age. From the moment she engaged her strength, and started to push against my hand, I simply could not stop her from pushing my pre-pubescent arm down to the desktop. She was proud of herself, and when we argued about anything thereafter, she would flex her arm and say, “Remember, I’m stronger than you.”

Soon after that, I entered puberty, and within 12 months, when I flexed my skinny arm, a hard, round muscle popped up. It was truly amazing to the girl. She knew that I had not started lifting weights, or even exercising.  Just on the basis of being a boy, I had developed a bulging bicep muscle bigger than hers.  And to add insult to injury, she found out when we had our re-match that I was now just a little bit stronger than her also.

I was never a gym rat in my teens and never had athlete-sized biceps. But like most men, I developed biceps in my teens that were bigger than those of the women I came across. While they were just average by male standards, I was confident that I was not going to lose a strength contest to any woman I might meet.

Then I hit 40. I noticed that my biceps did not have the peak they used to have when I flexed them. I noticed there was more fat on my arm covering the muscle.  By the time I hit 50, I noticed a decrease in arm strength.  Lifting heavy items to put them on a top shelf was not as easy as it used to be. I started to read articles in The New York Times and elsewhere that said I was losing one percent of my muscle mass each year. This was alarming.

And then I started noticing that many women were developing  biceps as large or larger than mine. I was walking in Midtown Manhattan one day, when I saw a young woman with biceps the size I had formerly only seen on men. These were not cute fitness biceps from aerobics; these were cannonball-sized guns on a beautiful woman.  And I loved them on her! And beyond that, I wanted them on me.

Continue reading →

That New York Post Subway Cover

10 Monday Dec 2012

Posted by in Men, Opinion

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , ,

P1120277

Was the December 4 New York Post subway photo too much for the front page?
Collage by Julie Seyler

BY BOB SMITH

On December 4, 2012, the New York Post ran on its cover a dramatic photo of a man about to meet his death from a subway train. According to the December 6 issue of the Post, the killer claimed the victim “attacked” him, “grabbed” him, was “drunk,” and “threatened to kill him.” The killer threw the victim onto the subway tracks and into the path of an incoming train, which was unable to stop, and crushed him to death between the train and the platform as he vainly struggled to pull himself to safety.  The event was tragic and, the Post’s publication of the photo has rightly been universally denounced as barbaric, gruesomely voyeuristic, and cruel.

This is nothing new for the Post, which regularly prints (and illustrates, with graphic photos, if possible) the most fantastic and grotesque stories, following the old newspaper adage that, “If it bleeds, it leads.”  And I’m sure the Post believes that the current controversy also falls squarely under the rubric that no publicity is bad publicity.  We have come to expect this level of amorality from the Post.

I hesitate to discuss the photo, its meaning, or the motives of those behind it for fear of dignifying the Post’s conduct.  In fact, using any form of the word “dignity” in reference to the New York Post seems wrong.  But still the incident bears scrutiny.

Continue reading →

The Beginning of the Middle

07 Friday Dec 2012

Posted by in Confessional

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

 

Julie’s reflection in a pool at Kwetsani Camp, Botswana.
Photo by Julie Seyler

BY JULIE SEYLER

Middle age began for me in April 2012, when I was 56½ years old. Before that, I felt, and perceived myself as young – not 20-year-old young, but 45-year-old young.  It shocked me to actually feel old for the first time in my life. I talked about feeling old when I turned 30 and 40, but this experience was visceral – a connection from the chronological age to a deep-rooted awareness in my heart. I never thought that was going to happen to me. I exercise. I eat right. I have a balanced life, filled with moderation. I follow Dr Oz’s advice. Wasn’t this supposed to shield me from getting old and feeling old?

Ha.Ha.Ha.

I became depressed, confused, anxious, and scared. I drew, because color and free-form lines are great for expressing angst. Perhaps it all sounds silly, but it was tumultuous and inverting – always leading back to the same questions:

Who am I now? Where am I going? What’s next? So how are the good times defined in the future? Will there be fun? I mean, really, laughter is a basic for survival.

The Identity War- by Julie Seyler

The Identity War. By Julie Seyler

Perhaps that sounds petty, trivial, and a non-starter, especially in light of the devastation and havoc wrought by Hurricane Sandy.  How can I be worrying about “fun?”  And the fact is, since I wrote this passage about six months ago, when that first kick in the pants bumped me out of the complacent security and familiar routine of the left side of 50, it feels as if things will never be the same.

On November 6, a week after Sandy blasted the shorelines of New York and New Jersey wiping out beaches, cabanas, and businesses, someone near and dear to me, who just turned 60 was given a horribly sad diagnosis, and I was implanted with a prosthetic hip.

So will the good times return?  No doubt yes, but more importantly, will I remember to treasure the connections, friendships, passions, and simple joys that have accumulated in my life since way before I hit the right side of 50?

Is Cremation the Way to Go?

06 Thursday Dec 2012

Posted by in Confessional, Opinion

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Cemetary

19th Century Cemetery on W. 21st Street in Manhattan.
Photo by Julie Seyler

BY LOIS DESOCIO

My brother, Gerry, died this week last year. And since his life for decades was in Florida, but his family lives in New Jersey, the decision was made to cremate him, so we could bring him home, and have him home with us, forever. In the year since his death, two old friends have died, as well as a few parents of friends, and some relatives. The bulk of them have been cremated. As a result of all this, I have become obsessed with thoughts of cremation. Thinking of my brother (and six years ago, my father), going from whole to embers is unsettling. But is lying six feet under and turning skeletal any more pleasant?

My mother, on the other hand, who is a healthy 79 years old, says she doesn’t want to be cremated. Or buried. She wants a mausoleum. For the whole family.

Which brings me to this – I can’t decide, and if I drop dead tomorrow, it’s out of my hands, because, while I have a will, I left that part blank. I’ve always had visions, since my age was in the single digits, about what it must be like to be dead. Currently, my mental pictures have me with makeup on, dressed in my skinny jeans, and dangly, sparkly earrings, lying in a box in the ground, looking exactly the same, except I’m dead. Dead, but intact. But now I have to take it all seriously – I’m on the right side of 50. And it’s not that I’m feeling doomed – just more responsible.

Continue reading →

Hanging On to (And Finally Letting Go Of) the Chooba Diamond

05 Wednesday Dec 2012

Posted by in Confessional, Men

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

the chooba diamond- drawing by Julie Seyler

A Little Chooba Diamond on Her Hand.
Drawing by Julie Seyler

BY BOB SMITH

Have you ever heard of the Chooba diamond? I invented it when I was 11.
In 1965, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons had a pretty big hit on pop radio with a song called, “Let’s Hang On.” It’s a bouncy anthem about love gone wrong featuring Valli’s powerful falsetto, and one of the verses begins like this:

That little chip of diamond on your hand
Ain’t a fortune baby but you know it stands
For the love (A love to tie and bind ya)
Such a love (We just can’t leave behind us) …

The chorus exhorts the girlfriend to:

Hang on to what we’ve got
Don’t let go girl, we got a lot
Got a lotta love between us
Hang on, hang on, hang on
To what we’ve got.”

Somehow, I misunderstood the first line of that verse.  I thought Frankie said, “that little Chooba diamond on your hand,” instead of “chip of:”

I’d had zero experience with diamonds (or engagement rings, or girls, for that matter), so I  assumed Chooba was a designation of origin for a rare type of diamond unknown to me.  The “ain’t a fortune baby” line made sense because he did say “little,” after all.  So in my quaint understanding, Frankie had purchased an engagement ring for his girl set with a minuscule, but nonetheless highly-prized and mysterious, “Chooba diamond.”

Continue reading →

Fortunate Son Number 234

04 Tuesday Dec 2012

Posted by in Men, Opinion

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

draft card

My son most likely will never receive a draft card – is that a good thing?

BY FRANK TERRANELLA

I was looking for something in a drawer in my bedroom recently, and came across a relic from the 1970s – my draft card.  It occurs to me that the Baby Boomer generation is in a unique position when it comes to military service. While we were the last generation of men in recent times who were saddled with compulsory military service, most of us didn’t serve.  So we are unlike our fathers, who mostly did serve, and unlike our sons, who may never have experienced the threat of compulsory service.

I think that every man my age remembers going down to the Draft Board and registering.  Those of us who were more fortunate were able to claim college or other exemptions.  The less fortunate got their induction letters, and were sent to war.

Continue reading →

A Thousand Words on the Vagina

03 Monday Dec 2012

Posted by in Opinion

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

Mixed media drawing by Julie Seyler

Mixed Media Drawing by Julie Seyler

BY JULIE SEYLER

When Lo and I were getting this blog together, Naomi Wolf’s book, “Vagina: A New Biography, celebrating Wolf’s vagina, was published and reviewed all over the place.  The book is back in the news since the November 25 broadcast of the CBS television series, “The Good Wife,” had Stockard Channing, as attorney Alicia Florrick’s mother, touting the book as the must-read of the year.  The point being that Wolf’s research supporting the conclusion that the vagina is the source of all power and happiness has created a lot of buzz over the past few months. Who would not want to know that if you, the goddess, connect in to this particular orifice, you will touch nirvana.

At the time the book was published, the September 10, 2012 issue of The New Yorker had Ariel Levy simultaneously reviewing “Vagina” and the E L James’ runaway erotic bestseller “Fifty Shades of Grey”, part of the “Fifty Shades” trilogy. This amused me because these twinned reviews, in a 1000 words, seemed to encapsulate the ambiguity of a woman’s self-perceived sexuality in the early 21st century.

The September 14, 2012 Sunday New York Times Book Review approached the book completely differently.  The editors paired Toni Bentley’s incredibly witty take of “Vagina,” with a review by Jennifer Homans on Hanna Rosins’ tome, “The End of Men”, the theme of which ponders whether the feminist movement has succeeded in killing masculinity.  Now that’s a topic for a blog-a-cussion.  I divert. More on that to come …

As to these books, I have not read them and probably won’t.  I completely cop to the fact that therefore I have no right to comment.  To me, they sound boring, predictable and effortful. (I backtrack … maybe I should at least delve into the S & M kick of the “Fifty Shade” series, and then revisit the books of the Marquis de Sade to see if everything new is old again.) But I am no scholar. So take me back to the days when I discovered the classic 1970, “Our Bodies Ourselves.”  I smile – it said all I needed to know. OK, that and a few Penthouse porno tales about the housewife and the plumber.

The Year Before: Swimming Through New Currents

30 Friday Nov 2012

Posted by in Art, Opinion

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Swimming Through the Currents
By Julie Seyler

BY JULIE SEYLER

All photos and art by Julie Seyler

In our launch post on November 19, Lo wrote about how we have been thinking, gestating, mulling, ruminating, and contemplating our blog for a year.  It’s true. But originally we were food-focused foodbased, primarily because Lo loves to cook and entertain, I love to photograph, and we both love to eat. We precede any meal with an icy martini- hers dirty with as many olives as possible, mine pristine and clean – a single olive may only grace my glass.

About this time (almost a year ago to the day), we also decided to treat ourselves to a four-day jaunt to Madrid – basically to see how many tapas we could consume.P1080615

And, OK the Prado, Reina Sofia, and Thyssen-Bornemisza museums were on my to-do list as well, but Lo was thrilled with the amenities of the Palace Hotel, especially after she discovered Hemingway used to drink martinis at that same bar in the ’30s.

The trip was short (December 6-11), sweet and fabulous.  Without a doubt, the highlight was meeting our new friends, Miguel and Carmen.

After Madrid, we resumed our goal of starting a food blog, with sidebars on travel and art. We went through a variety of names like “Foodbaster, We Keep it Juicy,” and created a slew of original recipes featuring star anise.

star anise The recipes sucked (Steel Cut Oats Chicken with Blackberries and Raspberries!), and the overall concept wasn’t working.

At the same time we started noticing “things” weren’t quite the same as when we were 40. It definitely took just a bit longer to recover from the overnight flight to Madrid (Lo didn’t sleep for four days), and a dull ache in my hip, diagnosed as bursitis, was not disappearing after a six-week course of physical therapy.  In other words, we were swimming through a new set of currents – familiar, recognizable, but with a definite change in direction. And with that realization, the light went on: we want to talk about where we are now, because we are not in Kansas anymore. Ergo, The Write Side of 50 was born, and we are now 11 days old.  So here’s to us!  Have a great weekend everybody!